Are kemençe, lavta and darbuka “ours” or “theirs”?
On social media, we constantly see debates like:
Most of these claims are shaped not by historical research, but by emotional, nationalist reflexes. The reality, however, is much richer and more peaceful: music is not something peoples steal from each other; it is something that flows and mixes between them.
In this article, we will look closely at some of the most debated musical instruments, examine their historical journeys, and highlight the borderless and unifying nature of music.
Phrases like “this instrument belongs to us” or “you are playing their music” are often products of the modern nation-state perspective. Yet:
For this reason, assigning a single “owner” to an instrument is usually both historically weak and dismissive of cultural diversity.
The kemenche (kemençe) is one of the most frequently discussed instruments when it comes to cultural ownership. It holds a strong identity in Turkey, Greece, and the Caucasus at the same time.
Black Sea Kemenche
In Turkey, the Black Sea kemenche is closely associated with the Eastern Black Sea region (Trabzon, Rize, Giresun, Gümüşhane). It accompanies the horon dance and is played by Laz, Turkish, Hemshin, and other local communities.
Pontic / Greek Kemenche
For Pontic Greek communities, the kemenche is a key symbol of memory, migration, and identity. It connects present-day Greece with historical homelands around the Eastern Black Sea.
Historical Background
The origins of the kemenche go back to the wider rebab and lyra family. Medieval sources from both Byzantine and Islamic worlds mention bowed lutes related to today’s kemenche. The Black Sea coast has long been a shared cultural zone for Greeks, Turks, Laz, Armenians, and Georgians. These facts show that the kemenche is not the exclusive property of any single nation; it is a shared sound of a common geography.
Another popular social media claim is: “There is no such thing as a Turkish lavta; it was taken from Arabs or Syrians.” This statement is oversimplified and misleading.
The Lavta Family: Oud and Lute
Historically, the lavta (laouto, lauta) is related to both the Middle Eastern oud and the European lute tradition. From the 15th century onward, the lavta appears in Ottoman court music. It was played in cosmopolitan cities such as Istanbul, Izmir, and Thessaloniki by Turkish, Greek, Armenian, and Jewish musicians.
What Does “Turkish Lavta” Mean?
Today, when we say “Turkish lavta,” we refer to an instrument that is fretted and tuned according to Turkish makam music. It has a specific body shape and playing technique tied to the Istanbul Ottoman music tradition. It is a hybrid instrument shaped by many communities sharing the same cultural space.
When we move to percussion instruments, tracing exact national origins becomes even harder.
These instruments are simultaneously Turkish, Arab, Kurdish, Greek, and Balkan because rhythm is one of humanity’s oldest shared languages.
In many online arguments, discussions turn into accusations of “theft.” This perspective reads history only through conflict and ignores co-creation and mutual influence.
History tells us something different: Instruments are not stolen; they are shared. When an instrument travels to a new community, it does not disappear—it gains a new style, a new sound, and a new meaning.
Music is one of the strongest languages that crosses borders. The same instrument plays for horon dances in the Black Sea, accompanies Greek dances in Greece, and finds a new voice in Caucasian folk repertoires. This diversity is a story of shared life and layered history.
To adopt a more constructive language, we can change the questions we ask:
Kemenche, lavta, darbuka, tulum, balaban, and many others have carried the stories of Anatolia, the Balkans, the Caucasus, and the Middle East for centuries.
When we play or listen to these instruments today, we are not only hearing “our” nation; we are hearing the voices of every community that touched and transformed that sound. Music does not exist to divide us; it exists to connect us. Talking about the origins of instruments with historical depth and respect for music’s peaceful nature is the healthiest way to honor this shared heritage.










